


Let Me Sleep Till I Die

by MissTantabis



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, Dark fluff, Domestic Horror, Fantastic Beasts Secret Santa Gift 2017, M/M, NSFW, Oneshot, secret santa gift
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-24
Updated: 2017-11-24
Packaged: 2019-02-06 09:19:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,404
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12814449
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissTantabis/pseuds/MissTantabis
Summary: When Percival Graves learns that Credence is dead and nobody will come for him, Gellert offers him an alternative to death. A slumber, produced by an odd sand in a bottle... However Grindelwald would not be Grindelwald, if he did not manipulate the events in his favour.





	Let Me Sleep Till I Die

**Author's Note:**

> Hello CloveeD,  
> I bet as soon as you read my name, you kind of panicked. XD Anyway, I have been doing my best to fulfil your gift, however to make it work I had to get a bit creative and bend a few of your demands. Do not worry: This story is very tame compared to what I usually do. There is no character death and no excessive violence. Though it does contain vore. Sorry for that in advance.  
> Anyway, I hope you enjoy what I wrote for you.  
> Merry Christmass.  
> Lots of love, Miss T.

The dizzy light of the lamp above their heads send fair rays over the wall. The room they stood in was barely containing any furniture. The window’s glass was so milky that it refused to let natural sunlight in, which fought its way hard through all the mist. There was a hard bed with a flea-bitten mattress and holey blanket. The pillow was hard.

Not that the man before him had any chance to lay on the band. He was slumped against the pillar of the bed, hands cuffed behind the wooden post. His hair had grown over the many months and he had the hints of an uncombed beard around him. He was wearing a long, blue cloak and underneath it a black shirt. He even wore a tie. In general if you were to swoop away all the dirt in his face, he would look surprisingly clean. However no cleaning could hide the bloodied cut in his cheek and a massive biting mark upon his left shoulder. Leave alone the fact that he was missing half his left leg.

Gellert Grindelwald knelt before Percival Graves. He was a young fellow with long, golden hair, dashed with brown and gold in the curls. His fair face had almost catlike features with narrow, smart eyes, hollow cheekbones, a long nose and fair, thin lips. The eyes were strangely mismatched. One was black, the other one blue. He wore a leather trouser with a blackish vest, over it a long blue cloak. His feet stuck in a pair of dark, military boots.

He cocked his head at the miserable looking figure. How much time had passed? Maybe a month. Maybe more. It was not easy to say. But then why should Gellert care? For Graves, day and night were melting into one undefined mess. He could no longer tell the time. Even Gellert’s visits were not regular. There were times where he left Percival to starve for several days.

“Did you miss me?”, Gellert asked softly and sweetly, “I am sure you did. After all, nobody is here to talk to you but me. Nobody is here to keep you company except for me.” Percival growled like a caged animal. “Get to your point, Grindelwald”, he demanded, “Why are you here? You never come unless you want something!”

“Temper, temper.” The blonde man slowly shook his head. He reached into his cloak. “Really, Percival, have you never learned anything about hospitality? I am so generous to you in all I do. And you stomp everything into the mud.” Gellert pulled out a newspaper. “But then you probably have not yet heard the news. But then how can you?”

The newspaper showed a flashing image of a man with short, spiky hair and the same mismatched eyes as Gellert. Over the photograph stood the headline GELLERT GRINDELWALD CAPTURED. Percival leaned forwards in disbelief. “Wait?”, the words flooded out of his mouth before he could stop them, “You were captured? But how and when? And how did you escape?” He took a deep breath, realising the colour raising in his cheeks. Gellert smirked. Percival’s emotions betrayed themselves so easily. He was always so fierce, so ready to argue. It was like having a firecracker before him. Gellert loved to watch him explode and sprout and go mad.

“Why are you showing me this?” Graves finally seemed to have found his voice again. Dropping the newspaper between them, Gellert lazily drew out the elderwand. Softly digging its tip into the soft flesh of Percival’s throat, he lifted his chin up. The smile he gave the Director of Magical Security was that of lazy victory. His eyes glimmered in delight. He mused: “Don’t you wanna know how it all came to this? I can tell you.”

Graves curled his lips. His eyes glowed in anger. He was already preparing for terrible news. “Give me your worst, butcher!”, he demanded. Gellert whispered: “As you wish.” The wand dug itself deeper into Percival’s throat as his captor recounted: “The Obscurus had been unleashed. Lashing out, it has raged through New York. You should have seen it, Percival. Such tremendous power and might, all combined and hidden in the sweet, innocent face of a young boy. Your precious, little friend Credence was the Obscurus, did you know that?”

His smile grew wider and he leaned even closer. By now Percival Graves tried his best to get away. Gellert could see shock and denial racing across his face. He was in this state of panic where your brain yells no more but you are compelled to listen on. And oh, how much Gellert enjoyed this state. He would ruin the last strands of hope and light Percival had inside of him, cut them through and plunge him into despair.

“In a subway tunnel, Credence was cornered”, explained Gellert, “Upon Picquery’s orders, the Auror’s shot. It was a dreadful spectacle as spells flew down and down again. You could hear Credence scream as the Obscurus was thorn into shreds. They killed him. MACUSA murdered a defenceless child. How’s that for justice, Director?”

Percival was panting. “This cannot be”, he whispered, “You are lieing. You have to be lieing!” “Oh, Percival”, Gellert’s hand ran over the trembling face and caressed the quivering lips, “When did I ever lie to you? You know me by now. I do not lie to you. MACUSA may have found me out” – he looked away before he faced Graves again – “but they think you are as good as dead. Nobody is going to come for you. And now a child is dead. The only person that ever hoped for your assistance. Dead.”

Gellert turned his head and rose, stepping back. He peered down upon Graves. Percival’s eyes were shut. He had buried his face in his hands. His body shook and slowly whipped back and forth. “This cannot be, this cannot be…” He repeated the words like a desperate prayer. Gellert knew he had struck Percival to the edge of desperation.  _ Madness is like gravity. All you need is one little push. _ His lips slowly pulled into a satisfied smile.

“You know what that means, Percival”, whispered Gellert, “You are no longer of use to me. But I am feeling generous.” Percival looked up in disbelief. “You are not...planning to kill me?”, he asked in disbelief. Gellert shook his head. He replied gently: “Ich weiß, dass du den Lärm des Lebens nicht mehr ertragen kannst. Und es gibt so viele verschiedene Arten von Stille. Der Tod ist nur eine davon.”

Gellert slowly reached into the inner pocket of his cloak. He pulled out a small flask. Shaking it, Graves could hear sand and water slosh in it. “What is that?”, he croaked. “A little something I made”, Gellert whispered, “based of a fairy tale of my homeland. Der Sandmann. He visits children in their sleep and sprinkles stardust into their eyes so they may sleep.”

Coming closer, he slowly laid a hand upon Percival’s chin. Lifting it up, he cupped it softly. “I will make you sleep”, Gellert whispered, “You won’t feel a thing. You will sleep safe and sound as the world goes by. Ich erlasse dich von sämtlichen Pflichten und Aufgaben. The worries of the world will no longer be yours. Is this not a blessing? You just sleep and wake up to something better.”

His hand wandered over that chin and he could feel the exhausted Director leaning into it. Gellert’s fingers reached Percival’s forehead. They slowly groomed black hair. His breath softly caressed the Director’s cheek. “Wouldn’t that be nice for you? After all, nothing holds you here any longer. Do you want to sleep? Sleep and dream of a better time?”

His voice had been like a dark lullaby and as he locked eyes with Percival, he could see the other one slowly had closed his eyes in an almost half slumber.  _ This is even easier then I thought. _ However Gellert could not just let Percival merely sleep. After all he was planning on abandoning the Director. And before that he wanted to have fun one last time.

Gellert took the flask and opened the bottle. A minty, yet oddly sweet smell like herbs and honey filled the room. The sand in the bottle crunched and sloshed around. The dark wizard slowly handed Graves the bottle. “There”, he instructed, “Drink.” Percival scoffed and eyed the bottle. Then, before he had a chance to make up his mind, he opened his lips and as the neck of the bottle graced his lips, tilted his head back.

Percival positively wolfed down the potion. In long, slow gulps, he emptied the bottle. Gellert slowly placed his hand between his shoulder blades to make sure he did not fall over. “There, there”, he instructed, “Keep drinking. That’s a good boy.” He could see salty tears quiver in the other one’s eyes. Even though Graves wanted to sleep so desperately, he knew that there was a catch. Gellert had tricked him so often, he knew another trick was bound to await him.

Finally Percival had drained the entire bottle. Gellert saw him cough and wheeze as the sand ran down his throat, muddy and sticky. His body shook violently. “What…”, stammered the Director, “what did you do?!” His hand ran over his chest frantically as if he feared his heart would stop beating. “What is the catch in all this, you monster?” His hands seized Gellert’s shirt as he began to shake uncontrollably.

“Easy there, Percival.” Gellert laughed in delight. It was always so amusing to see this frantic panic in the other one. The Director was no coward, however Gellert was the epitome of unpredictability and thus there was a reason to be frightened. The blonde wizard took the hand’s wrists and plucked them off his collar. He carefully pushed Percival down upon the bed. “You are not going to die, I told you. You will just feel rather dizzy.”

Graves panted. He looked around in hectic. “Entspann dich”, Gellert scolded him softly, “I want your last few moments in the waking world be worth remembering.” He leaned down and softly placed his lips on his forehead, giving him a kiss in an almost fatherly fashion. “The potion might take some time to work. But trust me, you will sleep before long.”

Percival seemed to force himself to breath slow and deep. Tears quivered in his eyes and ran down his cheeks. “Please...”, he whispered, “whatever you plan on doing, do not eat me.” A soft scoff as if this request was absurd. Gellert cubbed Percival’s cheek. “I would be nice, Percival. I would not chew you. I will just gently lick and suck upon you. So that won’t be as bad as chewing or chomping.” He chuckled, knowing how much the Director detested this game. It had traumatised him more then anything else he had done. But then how could you live passed the shock of servery chomped off limbs? And he had tasted so delicious.

The memory of the squirming body on his tongue alone, made Gellert moan in anticipation. Percival’s face turned white in horror. “Don’t do this”, he pleaded again. The blond wizard lazily cocked his head at the Director. His lips pulled into another one of those pleased, nasty smiles. “I am afraid you won’t have a choice. But I promise, you will love everything I do.”

He leaned down again. Nipping at Percival’s lips, Gellert slowly claimed him in a kiss. The beard tickled against his lips and cheeks. The Director tasted of bitterness, despair, ashes and starvation, mixed with old coffee, dust and dried blood. Gellert let out a deeper moan and pushed his lips apart with his tongue.

For a short moment it just rummaged through the other one’s mouth with no seemingly purpose at all. Then in a slow, hesitant fashion Percival replied to the kiss. The other one’s tongue twitched nervously as he leaned upwards. Gellert smirked into the kiss and wrapped his hands around Percival’s shoulders, keeping him half up on the bed.

The mattress was groaning under their shared weight. Gellert laid upon Percival. They were still fully clothed, however even now the dark wizard could feel heat gather in the pits of his stomach. It was not fiery arousal that made you become a lustful animal. It was an almost calm and amused stage, a lazy type of lovemaking, working perfectly hand in hand with his potion.

The Sandman was a potion that pulled its victim into slumber. However it was not working as fast and overbearing as the Draught of Living Death did, knocking you out and plunging you into darkness. It came with a gentle dizziness and the desire to lay down. It relaxed your muscles and made a wonderful warmth spread through your gullets. Your brain was turning itself off and the last things that happened to you while you fell asleep would follow you in the world of dreams.

Percival’s head had fallen backwards as his muscles became so relaxed. His eyes were half shut. Gellert could hear a low sigh creep over them. He smiled and began to kiss along the Director’s jawline and down to his throat. His teeth sliced open skin and blood began to leak out. Crimson against the fair neck. Percival flinched and let out a brief yelp, which was swallowed by a sigh and a pleasant moan. There was a look of bliss on his face.

“Das gefällt dir, nicht wahr?”, whispered Gellert as he slowly dragged his tongue over the wound on the neck, tasting the blood, “Such a nice dream. Would it not be nice if it could last forever?” Glassed over, dim, brown eyes looked at him with hopeless longing. “Yes”, whispered Percival, mind gone and drowned in the sands of the potion.

Gellert laid one of his fingers upon his lips and smiled almost winningly and triumphantly. “Oh, be assured, Graves, this will be the best dream you ever had.” He laid his hands on Percival’s cloak and slowly opened it. Stripping his shoulders bare, his lips began to cover each part of exposed skin. He kissed along Percival’s chest and stomach, feeling the other one drift off under his touch, becoming warm and lazy. Gellert smirked. He knew it was only a matter of time before he drifted off into slumber.

Graves tried to raise his hands and Gellert allowed him to caress his cheeks. Mismatched eyes stared into this face full of bliss. He did not see what he was doing as a punishment. He saw it as a blessing. Poor Graves had worked so hard and tired himself so much out in his chase of him that he clearly deserved a rest. Besides, would it not be easier to just let them all sleep themselves to death? It left less of a trail and it was less messy.

Gellert rose half, still sitting on Graves’ lap. His head tilted forwards and he eyed the man’s chest before him. It was a muscular chest as broad as the shoulders with ribs drawn nicely upon a healthy, not too pale skin. His stomach was flat. Gellert’s hand, covered in rings and with the tattoo of the skull upon his belly, feeling the slow breathing raise it up and down. The skin felt warm, almost cosy.

Graves looked so pleased with this body. This well formed chest, these tight rips. By now Percival clearly had troubles with keeping his eyes open. The potion was beginning to enter his final stages. He would hardly resist any more. It was almost a shame. Gellert loved it when Percival put up a little bit of resistance. The livelier a meal was the better. But then he was feeling generous right now and he wanted to have Percival slip into his sleep with more or less positive memories. After all, no death was darker then the one you did not see coming.

Gellert slowly drew out his wand. “Ich denke unser kleines Spiel nährt sich dem Ende.” He smirked like a Cheshire cat, and his voice seemed to bounce in delight as he whispered: “Reducio.” It seemed to be the familiarity of that word, which caused Percival to startle out of his stupor. “No, wait!”, he called and tried to climb out of the bed. But Gellert sat upon him and the Sandman potion had caused the tiredness sink deep inside Graves’ bones.

Magic swirled around him and Gellert watched with eyes glowing in lust and pleasure as the body before him shrank down until he was eight inches tall. Picking the Director up with two fingers, Gellert held him before his face. His lips parted into another joyful smile. “How cute you are”, he whispered at Percival, “How tiny and how tasty looking.” He laughed quietly.

Percival shook his head, trying to get the dizziness out of his head. But even that move was slow and untrained. He was already disorientated from approaching sleep. Thus the Director merely whispered: “Please, whatever you do, do not be too harsh on me.” Gellert softly nuzzled him. “I will be gentle”, he mused, “I promise.” The Director soon would not notice anything any more. Gellert guessed in maybe five minutes he would be sleeping deeply.

Parting his lips, a dark pink tongue came out of it. It slowly dragged itself over Percival’s face. Once, twice. Gellert could feel the other man squirm in his hold, even though he was as gentle as possible. Tongue disappearing back in his mouth, Gellert savoured the touch of taste that prickled on his tongue. It was so familiar.

He grinned at Graves as he licked his lips. Gellert then opened his mouth again. Moving his hand forwards, he gently pushed Percival upon his tongue, face first. He heard the other wizard make a muffled sound. Maybe a scream, sigh or groan. It was hard to tell. Gellert pulled his hand away and slowly closed his lips around Percival.

He could feel a pair of small legs kick outside of his lips and a body struggle between his teeth. Gellert moaned in delight and his tongue shot up. Swooping between Percival’s legs, it made the entire body disappear in his mouth. The dark wizard could feel the Director twist and turn as he tried to look around and get away from these teeth.

Gellert slowly started to lick and suck upon the other one’s body. He cocked his head and let his tongue roll around. Coiling around Percival Graves, he drenched him in saliva. The Director tasted as sweet as Gellert remembered him, however he now felt less lively and wild. He obviously did not put up much of a fight any more.

After one last teasing flick with his tongue, Gellert opened his mouth again and carefully pulled Percival out. The Director was covered in gooey saliva. He groaned and looked at Grindelwald, eyes half-shut in sleep. Gellert gave the small face a gentle kiss. “It is almost a shame that I have to leave you now. But well, all good things must come to an end.”

He drew out the elderwand and softly cleaned the liquid away. Another flick and Percival grew back to his original size. He already seemed to be sleeping. Gellert gently pulled the blanket over the Director’s body. He stood there and slowly brushed a hand over his short, black hair.

“It has been a lot of fun, Percival.” Gellert leaned down and kissed his forehead. He smiled down at him and took a step back. “It is almost a shame to leave you now.” He turned around and slowly walked out of the room, leaving Percival to slumber into nothingness. Unless somebody found him…

* * *

Translation:

“Ich weiß, dass du den Lärm des Lebens nicht mehr ertragen kannst. Und es gibt so viele verschiedene Arten von Stille. Der Tod ist nur eine davon.” = "I know you can no longer bear the noise of life. And there are so many different versions of silence. Death is only one of them."

Ich erlasse dich von sämtlichen Pflichten und Aufgaben. = I relieve you of all your duties and tasks.

Entspann dich = Relax

Das gefällt dir, nicht wahr? = You like this, don't you?

Ich denke unser kleines Spiel nährt sich dem Ende. = I think our little game approaches its end.


End file.
